Rain One Shots
by JennaKobis
Summary: One shots for my fanfic, RAIN. If you haven't read that, you probably should because this won't make sense if you don't! Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Spoilers, rated T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

ONE SHOT 1 | Boxing and Whiskey

Connor and I walk along the streets of Boston, our hands brushing.

The moon shines above us, casting long, dark shadows on the ground. We enter an inn, the name of which escapes me. Inside, it's warm and filled with the beautiful sound of drunken men and pleasured squeals of women. In one corner sits Sam Adams, and he waves us over to his table.

"Connor! Clara!" He exclaims. "How are you?"

"Fine." I reply, smiling.

"Now, my friend Issac here thinks you've been… talked up." Sam says to Connor. Issac nods at us from his seat at Sam's table. "As you know, there is a boxing tournament here, tonight."

I raise an eyebrow and smirk, knowing where this is going. Connor can tell, as well.

"Very well." He says with a smirk. I'm surprised; usually Connor is withdrawn and quite focused. Letting himself go like this is refreshing.

Issac stands up. "Let's go then, boy!" He exclaims, his Irish accent and deep rumbling voice resonating around the room. He's older than Connor, but can't be much older than 30 years. He's much the same height as Connor, and the same build as well. This should be interesting.

The already-formed boxing circle is quickly emptied. There are a few dribbles of blood already left on the wooden floor. Connor tries to enter, but is blocked by Issac.

"No armor, boy!" He exclaims.

Connor looks back at me, then undresses until he's left with only his pants and buckskin boots. Honestly, seeing him shirtless, with his extremely muscled chest and dark skin, it still makes my heart beat unevenly.

Connor enters the circle and he and Issac raise their fists. A bell dings and Connor and Issac begin to fight, the crowd shouting and laughing.

"5 shillings on the Native!" I shout, holding out my pouch. About half the crowd clamors to place their bets, all the while Connor and Issac throw punches back and forth.

Connor throws a punch, Issac blocks it and counters. The two appear evenly matched, and I let out a laugh of enjoyment.

Suddenly, Connor throws a punch and Issac fails to intercept it. Connor's fist connects with Issac's head, and he falls to the ground, half unconscious. A jubilant roar erupts from the crowd, and I let out a shout of excitement. Connor makes his way over to me, and I walk over to him, all the while dealing out winnings to people who bet. Connor pulls me into his arms and makes a show of planting a large kiss on my lips. People cheer and whoop, and as we part I notice Connor's nose is bleeding.

"Nice fight." I say loudly over the crowd.

"Who's next?" The boxing master calls exultantly.

A large man walks into the circle and holds his arms up into the air.

"Any challengers?" The master calls out into the crowd. No one volunteers.

Suddenly, a thought strikes me. _Why should Connor get to have all the fun?_

I remove my armor, so that I wear only my pants, boots and shirt. I walk into the circle, and the large man spins around to face me. As he sees me, his face falls.

"I can' fight a woman!" He exclaims.

"Try me!" I shout over the crowd.

He raises his eyebrows, and then his fists; reluctant.

"Go easy on 'er, Jim!" A man calls from the crowd.

A few comments like that are shouted, before the master rings the bell again.

The man, apparently called Jim, approaches me reluctantly. He seems afraid to hit me, so I smile at him and slam my fist as hard as I can into his cheek.

Jim stumbles backwards, apparently not expecting that, and shakes his head a few times. The crowd roars happily.

Jim approaches me fast, his fist raised, and I can tell he won't hold back. I block his fist and twist his arm until it's behind his back. Then, I kick him in the stomach and let go of him, darting to the edge of the circle. Jim runs at me again, and lands a good hit on my nose, causing it to bleed. I wipe away the blood and continue to fight, which just makes the crowd yell louder. Jim and I duel, and in the background I hear Sam Adams placing bets on me.

Suddenly, I notice an opening in Jim's defense; whenever he goes to punch, he drops his guard around his ribcage. If I could land a good hit there, I could break his ribs, or at least end the fight.

I prance back and forth, tempting Jim to hit me, but darting back just at the last minute each time he tries to punch me. I try to anger him, to get him frustrated, and it's working. He throws his punch, and I run in, punching him as hard as I can in his ribcage. He stumbles back, groaning, and clutches his ribs. He tries to throw another punch, but can't summon the strength to. He raises his arms limply, in a sign of defeat.

The crowd roars, and this time I make a show of kissing Connor. I hear a shout from Jim.

"Oi, lassie! Bet you can' hold ya liquor as good as me!" He yells.

I turn around and smile cockily, raising an eyebrow. "You're on." I smile.

The crowd roars again, and Jim gets us both a few bottles of whiskey. He doesn't know my past history and experience with these matters; before I met Connor, I'd sneak out at night and participate in events such as these.

The first glass goes down both our throats. A second, a third, and after that I start to lose track. Not because the alcohol is affecting me, at least, that's not the main reason; but I've learnt that it's best to just keep downing the alcohol, and not to keep track. I adds pressure and stress, which is exactly what you don't want in a situation like this.

After a while, my thoughts become muddled, and everything just seems hilarious.

**~!~**

Connor watched as his wife downed glass after glass of the whiskey. It soon became fairly clear that she was going to beat the man in this too, but how she did it was a mystery to Connor.

After a while, people started to lose interest in the drinking game. The man who had challenged Clara fell asleep, and Clara sat in her chair, smiling broadly. Connor approached her.

"Clara, let's go home." Connor said.

"Nah, I don't wanna go…" She slurred.

"Clara, come. You are drunk." Connor told her.

"Pfft." She said, her eyes half closed. "I'm not drunk! You're just a silly man." She said.

Connor took her hand and lifted his wife into his arms, and she squealed happily. Connor nodded goodbye to the innkeeper and walked outside with Clara in his arms.

"Connor, put me down. I can… I can… What is it I can do again?" She asked.

Connor chuckled. "You cannot walk; you are drunk."

"I can walk! I'll show you!" Clara said, trying to twist out of Connor's arms and failing. He was too strong.

"Where are we going, anyway?" Clara asked loudly.

Connor laughed. "Home." He told her.

"Ah! Back to the homestead!" She roared enthusiastically.

Connor rolled his eyes; it was going to be a long trip back to Davenport.

**~!~**

I wake up and the first thing I notice is a splitting headache. My head feels like it's been split in two and then a child has played with the putty inside. The next thing I notice is my mouth feels extremely dry, and I'm thirsty. So thirsty.

Then I hear the noises of the forest. Are they louder than usual? The sounds hurt my ears. I open my eyes, and the light is too bright. These symptoms should last the whole day; excellent. Just what I needed.

Connor enters the room, and I swear he's stomping on purpose.

"Good morning." He says, smiling mischeviously.

"Go away." I mumble moodily, burying my head in my pillow.

Connor laughs and sits down on the bed, rocking it and bringing on a sudden wave of nausea.

"This is your own fault." He tells me.

"Please stop talking." I mutter.

Connor laughs again, but exits the room. I feel slightly guilty for behaving that way to Connor, but right now all I want to do is sleep.

**~!~**

Connor walked downstairs, a smile on his face. It had been fun to tease Clara a bit.

He knew she would probably sleep for the whole day, so Connor took his bow and arrows and headed out into the forest to hunt.

The sun shone brightly as he headed outside, the flowers were bright, the air warm. Connor looked to Achilles' gravestone, and thought of the old man for a while. He hoped Achilles would be proud of all that he and Clara had accomplished.

Connor walked into the trees, closing his eyes, relishing the sounds of the forest. Here, he had time to be alone. Not that he disliked spending time with Clara, but it was nice to be by himself sometimes. Besides, he doubted Clara would be very good company today.

The sun was bright, the air was warm, the forest was alive.

And all was well.

**Hey, guys! So, what did you think of my first one-shot of Connor and Clara?  
I wanted to let you guys know that I'm going to write an Assassin's Creed 2 fanfic as well. It will be an EzioXOc.  
Also, I need ideas for more one-shots! It's hard to think of ideas! Please review, and I'll see you guys after I get a good idea!  
P.S. I can think of ideas about as well as I can speak French (not very well) so I'm going to need your help! Reviews are the only way I'll be able to come up with ideas for the next one-shot, so if you want more, review!  
And yes, I am aware of how much of a review whore I am. ;) **

**Love from Jenna!**


	2. Chapter 2

ONE SHOT 2 | Night terrors

_I walk along the streets of Boston, the ground covered in snow. The world is empty; I am the last woman alive. Ash flies in the wind, getting caught in my hair. I walk through the streets forever, never questioning why. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see a group of people._

_Charles Lee. Haytham Kenway. Thomas Hickey. William Johnson. Pitcairn._

_All lined up in a row, swords out. _

"_How are you here! You're all dead!" I scream._

"_We can never be killed!" The shout back in unison. They run towards me, and I look around for Connor. He isn't here._

_I draw my sword and wait for the men to reach me. Then, in a swirling mix of metal and flesh, the men are cut down. I straighten up and my sword plunges deep into Haytham's chest, and then I see her._

_Alice._

_She makes eye contact with me, and then runs off._

"_Alice! Wait!" I yell after her._

_She doesn't stop so, my heart thudding, I sprint off after her. Who knew a child could be so fast?_

_Alice leads me through Boston, until we arrive at a wreckage of a home. I see ghosts playing in front of it; James, Alice and I as children. I then recognize the wreckage as my old home. I enter it, and then I am confronted by a terrifying sight; Alice, dead and burnt, her skin red and puckered. She stands up, and opens her eyes. They are a bright, sinful red. She glares at me with the utmost hate in her eyes._

"_Why didn't you save me?" She asks, her voice sounding as if a child and a demon were speaking at the same time._

"_I-I couldn't! We were children, how was I supposed to save you?" I ask desperately, tears running down my cheeks._

"_You could have gone back into the fire, coward! You should have saved me!" She roars. "Why didn't you save me?" _

_Her voice echoes around Boston._

"_I'm sorry!" I cry. "I'm sorry, Alice! I left you, and I'm sorry!" _

"_So you should be." Alice says quietly._

_She walks around the corner and I follow her. We are suddenly at the homestead, in the bedroom Connor and I share. Connor is fast asleep in the bed, and I can't help but smile at him. Suddenly, the whole place is aflame. Connor wakes up and sees the flames._

"_Clara! Help me!" He shouts._

_I stare at him, horrified._

"_I-I can't!" I shout back. I take a step back._

"_Clara! Please! Don't leave me here! I'll die!" Connor screams._

"_I'm sorry!" I cry._

_I run out of the mansion, and I flop down on the grass, watching the homestead burn. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I spin around to see Ratohnhnaké:ton standing behind me, burnt and red, his flesh exposed in many places._

"_Ratohnhnaké:ton! You're alive!" I exclaim. I make to hug him, but he steps back._

"_Do not touch me! You did not save me!" Connor exclaims._

_And with that, he pulls out his tomahawk. He approaches me and I can't move, I'm so scared. He draws the tomahawk up above his head and then swings it down._

"Clara, wake up!" Connor exclaims quietly.

My eyes snap open, and I realize they're wet. I'm panting and shaking like I never have before. I see Connor above me, but the vision of him, dead and burnt, still lingers in my mind and for a moment, he terrifies me. My eyes widen and I flinch away.

"Clara?" Connor asks softly, and I can tell he's slightly hurt.

I look back at him, still leaning over me, but further away. I fling my arms around his neck, refusing to let go, and after a hesitant second he wraps his arms around my waist. Suddenly, overwhelmed with emotion, I start crying into Connor's shoulder.

"Clara! What's wrong?" Connor asks, alarmed.

"I-I don't know!" I sob, embarrassed. I lean away for a second, wiping away the humiliating tears.

"Did you have a bad dream?" Connor asks.

I nod, and lean into him once again.

"It is alright. It was only a dream." Connor says comfortingly, holding me close. He rolls over and pulls me on top of him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Connor asks me, his eyes soft.

"No, not just yet." I say shakily.

Connor nods, and kisses me gently. I sigh, still shaken, but feeling better every second with Connor by my side. He rubs my back slowly, tracing smooth patterns on my back. It feels nice.

"Thank you." I say to him, nuzzling my head into his shoulder.

"Konnorónhkwa." Connor says softly, kissing me on the cheek.

Soon after, we fall asleep, and the dreams stay away as I lie there, wrapped in the comforting embrace of Connor's strong arms.

**Hello again!  
I hope you guys liked this one-shot, even though it's really short! Sorry for not updating sooner, but school got in the way and then I was just too lazy yesterday to get on and publish this. I just laid in front of the couch and watched TV. Then, at about 2:00 am, I realized I had homework to do.  
Yay me!  
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one-shot and also that small snapshot of my sad and depressing spiral of procrastination! I'll see you after 5 reviews, and probably a few days as well. Also, I'm publishing the first chapter of my Assassin's Creed 2 fanfic at the same time as this. It's called **_**Blooming Flower**_**. The title sounds really stupid on its own, but the Summary is this:  
**_**Affection is like a shy flower, reluctant to bloom. Unfortunately for Ezio, this flower may take a bit longer than he expected. Natalia is seemingly immune to his charm, and finally having someone to keep him in line is a whole new thing for the young Italian Assassin. SPOILERS. Ezio/OC  
**_**So please read it, because Natalia (maybe Ezio will start calling her Nat, or Nata, or something shorter) is also a badass but is quite different to Clara as well. Also, suggestions for the next one-shot are always appreciated! Love from Jenna**


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 | BIG NEWS

"What?" I gasp.

Doctor White sits down in front of me, looking happy and perhaps slightly disappointed that I'm not happy as well.

There's a good reason I'm not happy. This has happened before, and it didn't end well. Now that it's happened again, all I feel is a twisting worry deep in my stomach and suddenly nausea overwhelms me. I sit forwards in the seat, holding my head until the sickness fades, and I straighten up to face Doctor White again.

"I'm..." My voice is suddenly raspy. I clear my throat. "I'm with child?"

Doctor White nods.

I sit back in the seat. I'm suddenly exceptionally worried, and thoughts of what could possibly happen to this child start to fill my head. And how will I tell Connor?

"If you'd like, I could give you some tips on how to care for yourself, and the baby." The Doctor says.

I nod, only half listening to him.

**~!~**

I sit on the front porch, waiting for Connor to come back from the hunt. I want him home, here, with me. I need his support, because right now I have no idea what to do.

Suddenly, I see him through the trees and I wish he was still on the hunt, so I wouldn't have to tell him again. I wonder how he'll react. Will he be happy? Sad? Angry? I gather my courage, put on my brave face and stand up to face the music.

I walk towards Connor, smiling, and as we reach each other he pulls me into a gentle kiss.

"Konnorónhkwa." He says, smiling at me.

"I love you too." I reply.

Connor walks away from me, towards the house.

"Ratohnhnaké:ton, wait." I say. He stops and turns around, and seeing the expression on my face he approaches me again.

"What is it?" He asks, concerned.

I take a deep breath and, my heart beating, I talk.

"Ratohnhnaké:ton, I'm... I'm with child." I say nervously.

Connor's expression turns from concerned to completely blank.

He stands there for a few moments in a state of shock, before he looks down at me, disbelieving.

"You're pregnant?" His voice quiet and at least an octave higher than it usually is.

I nod.

Connor steps forwards and pulls me into a gentle hug, my head under his chin. We stand there for a moment before Connor breaks the embrace and sits down. I sit next to him.

"Are you okay? Are you happy?" I ask him.

"I am alright." Connor says, looking at me. "Are you?"

After a moment of consideration, I speak. "I think so."

Connor suddenly smiles. "And I am happy." He almost sounds surprised. "We will be careful this time."

"Yes, we will." I say.

**~!~**

I sit in the living room, reading a book. One hand rests on my very slightly round belly, feeling the tiny child that sleeps inside. Now that the initial shock has faded, I find I'm actually happy about the child. Now, instead of worry, anticipation comes. I wonder what the child will be like. Will it be a boy or a girl? Will he or she be short? Tall? Athletic, like it's parents?

There are so many questions, all of which will be answered in 7 months. I find myself wishing the time away, so that I can finally meet the thing that grows inside of me.

I've been thinking about baby names for the past eight weeks. I must have gone through the entire English language, and even though it would be nice to name the child something from Connor's background, I don't know any names besides Ratohnhnaké:ton.

Nothing seems to fit.

I considered naming the child Alice, if it was a girl, but somehow it doesn't feel right. Names like John and James went in one ear and out the other; they were too common. The child needs a unique name, or at least a less common one.

I feel as if we should have an English name, to use in the cities, like Achilles did for Connor, but a name in Connor's language as well.

There are so many options to consider, so many things to think about, so many questions to go unanswered. I can barely stand it.

I stand up and walk outside, wanting fresh air. I walk around slowly, before I hear a shout.

"Clara! Miss Clara!" A man shouts. I turn around to see Terry and Godfrey walking towards me. When they reach me, Godfrey speaks.

"We heard a rumour that you were with child, Clara." He says.

"It is true." I say, grinning foolishly.

"Ha! I told you, ya old bastard!" Godfrey exclaims, pointing his finger at Terry. "Congratulations." He adds, glancing at me guiltily.

I laugh. "Thank you." I say, smiling.

As Terry and Godfrey walk off, I see Terry hand over a few coins.

"Bet you it's a boy." He says, challenging Godfrey to another bet.

"You're on." Godfrey growls.

I seem to be stuck in a permanent smile these days. It never leaves my face; Connor said that even when I sleep I have a smile.

From that moment on, every hour a new person arrives to congratulate me. I wish Connor would be here, so that they could tell him too, but I settle with just reminding everyone who comes to congratulate him as well.

As the sun begins to set, I hear footsteps on the porch. Exhausted from the flood of well-wishers, and probably the child as well, I hope to God that it's Connor and not some far-fetched relative from England. The door opens to reveal Connor, and I smile gratefully.

Connor sees me standing up in the living room and crosses the room in two strides to help me up.

"I'm not a cripple, Ratohnhnaké:ton." I say with a smile.

"I know." Connor says, also showing a smile. He pulls me into a kiss, and when we separate he puts a large and rough hand on my belly.

"What did you do today?" Connor asks as we sit down again.

"Terry and Godfrey heard the news. It seems they had some sort of bet going." I say.

Connor looks angry. "That is rude." He says.

"It was just a bit of fun. Don't worry." I say soothingly.

Connor relaxes as I touch his arm.

"Konnorónhkwa." He says, pulling me into him and planting a kiss on my lips. Suddenly, I pull him forwards and kiss him passionately. Connor seems a bit confused at my sudden change in mood, and to be honest, so am I. I pull away, with effort.

"I'm sorry. Doctor White said I might experience mood swings." I mumble, embarrassed.

"Do not fret." Connor says simply. He looks me in the eyes steadily, and then kisses me gently, his hand coming up to my cheek, his fingers brushing my jaw.

And once again, I smile broadly.

**So, let me know what you thought of that chapter! Sorry I didn't update for a while, but my Internet decided to... I dunno, get drunk and be knocked out for the entire weekend. Anyway, the point is I'm back and should be updating regularly if my Internet is okay with it.  
Also, I'm writing an Assassin's Creed 2 fanfic, called Blossoming Affection. The title's pretty gay, but it's actually a good story, if I don't say so myself. And it has an Ezio\OC, and because it's Ezio there's going to be some... action ;). But I won't go into much detail. It's like the fluff in Rain. This isn't 50 shades of grey.  
I think that's all I have to say... Oh well, I'll see you guys in 5 reviews!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello again! I'm back again with another one-shot for Rain, and I'm so sorry about not updating much! My internet's a bitch. **

CHAPTER 4

I walk along the streets with Connor, careful where I step. Which is hard to do, as I haven't seen my feet for some time now. Our child has grown a lot in the past eight months, and as the birth draws closer, I grow more excited.

Captain Faulkner said there were some pirates that had been terrorizing Philadelphia, so Connor will go while I'll stay behind. Connor didn't want to go, because of the child, but the mission shouldn't take much more than a week at most. We arrive at the docks.

"There is still time. If you want me to stay, only say the word." Connor says to me seriously.

"Connor, go." I laugh. "The child and I have agreed that nothing major will happen while you're gone."

Connor raises his eyebrow at me, but draws me in for a gentle kiss, one hand on my belly.

"I will miss you." He says.

"I'll miss you, too." I reply.

Connor crouches down and kisses my belly, making me giggle. He stands up, hugs me gently one last time, and walks towards the Aquila.

**~!~**

I sit on the grass, a sketching pad in one hand, a piece of charcoal in the other. I sketch the bay.

I've found drawing a good pastime; even if I'm not very good at it. The hidden basement has an entire room now dedicated to my drawings, all of them the bay, the trees, the flowers. I tried to draw Connor once, but it ended up a laughingstock.

I look up at the bay again, holding the paper up to compare the two. I'm quite pleased with how this one turned out, actually. I hear a shout from behind me.

"Clara!" A woman calls. I recognise her as Myriam.

I stand up and turn around to face the woman, and she walks towards me holding up a fox.

"Thank you!" I exclaim as we get closer to each other. Myriam has been hunting for me ever since Connor left, and sometimes she stays for dinner.

The past week has been quite enjoyable. I've missed Connor, but it's been very peaceful at the homestead. And my drawings have become better.

Myriam and I walk inside the house, chatting about nothing. We prepare dinner, and tonight Myriam stays. After dinner, Myriam pulls something out of her game bag.

"I made this for the child." She says, pulling out a fur blanket.

It's beautiful. It's like a quilt of fox, rabbit, and other skins. It should be very warm. I take it from her hands, feeling the soft fur.

"Thank you, Myriam. It's beautiful." I say, beaming.

"I'm glad you like it." Myriam replies.

"Of _course_ I like it!" I exclaim.

Myriam leaves, and I walk upstairs, into the baby's room. Connor and I have set everything up for when the baby arrives; a crib, table. Various decorations, made by Connor, hang around the room, including a dream catcher, also made by Connor. It dangles above the baby's crib. I place the fur blanket inside the crib, sighing. I want Connor to come home now, so that the baby can be born. I will not have the child without him.

At least, that's what I tell myself; it's not as though I have much choice in the matter.

That night, I sleep well.

**~!~**

I walk through Boston once again. My heart drums quickly at the thought of seeing Connor again. I reach the docks as quickly as I can, eager to see Connor. The Aquila has docked at the port, but I can't see Connor anywhere. I search for a while, but suddenly something happens to my vision.

The world goes grey, as though an incredibly thick cover of cloud has invaded the skies. The people are mostly coloured a lighter shade of grey, except for the guards, who glow a bright red. The sailors aboard the Aquila glow blue, and then I see a figure who glows bright gold. Even in this odd vision, I know who it is.

Connor.

I broad smile splits my face, but my emotions are distracted. This strange new vision makes me feel uneasy, and I know something's wrong. My stomach tightens.

Connor sees me, and he smiles, disembarking the Aquila. As he gets closer, he sees the worried expression on my face, and the smile fades, replaced with concern. Suddenly, I recognize what this is.

Connor has often told me of his ability, his other vision. Suddenly my vision returns to normal, just as Connor reaches us.

"Clara? Is everything alright?" He asks worriedly.

"Yes, yes, everything's fi-"

I am cut off by a sudden sensation. I know what this is.

"Clara?" Connor asks, now alarmed.

"It's happening." I gasp as the other vision flickers, as though it and my normal vision are fighting for control.

Connor's expression turns worried, and my brow creases like an old man's. Because this shouldn't be happening now. It can't. It's too soon. The child isn't supposed to be born until next month, according to Doctor White. But it appears the child is too impatient to see the world.

Another contraction wracks my body.

**I'll see you guys in 5 reviews!**


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

I let out another scream of pain as I try to push the child out again. I've heard some women talk about the 'joys of childbirth', but so far I've experienced no joy whatsoever.

Connor waits outside the room, in the hallway of Dr White's house. We managed to get me back from Boston before the child began to emerge, and now Dr White urges me onwards.

"Push again!" He urges.

"I am pushing!" I shout back, frustrated and tired. I push again, with all my strength.

"Once more!" Dr White exclaims.

"You said that last time!" I exclaim, pushing again.

"I see the head!" Dr White says.

This inspires me to push even harder, just wanting the child out of me at this point. I let out a yell as I push for the last time, and then the pain begins to fade. Dr White holds up the child.

"You have a daughter!" He exclaims joyously. He looks down at the child, my baby girl, and his happy expression falters.

"Connor." He calls.

Connor bursts into the room, looking worried and confused and every other emotion he could possibly feel. He almost sprints over to me, then looks at Dr White.

"Stay here. Your baby... She isn't breathing." Dr White says gravely.

I can't breathe.

I can't breathe.

Just like my child. My lungs refuse to work. Connor looks at me, and his eyes look dead. Tears overflow my cheeks, silent pearls that slide down my face. Connor grabs my hand and holds it in his. He has tears in his eyes too. He seems to have stopped feeling. I wish I could stop feeling. Stop the pain that my heart feels. A pain thousands of time worse than giving birth. Millions of times worse than being shot in the chest. Much worse than being stabbed, hit, burned. This is the most pain a human being can experience.

If my baby is dead, I want to die, too. I carried her for nine months. Loved her more than I thought was possible. And all that, gone. In one instant, gone. Gone.

Gone.

I let out a sob. Loud and clear. A sob filled with pain, grief.

And then I hear another cry.

High pitched and wailing. Loud enough to make my ears burst.

And yet, the happiest sound I could ever hear.

Dr White walks through the door, gently cradling a tiny human being in his arms. My baby girl, wailing and screaming,

He walks slowly over to my bed, and places my baby in my arms. She ceases her crying, or at least softens it, and my tears fall even more. This time, they are tears of joy. Pure elation, relief, and every other happy emotion I could ever feel. I stare into her large, beautiful brown eyes, just like her father's. I look up at Connor, whose smile seems to almost split his face in half. He stares at our daughter with shining eyes, and then looks to me. He leans down and places a passionate kiss on my lips, all his love transferred into that one touch.

"I love you." I say to Connor, and to our daughter.

"Konnorónhkwa." He replies softly.

I look back down at our daughter, my tears dripping onto my nightgown. I could not be any happier.

**~!~**

"What should we call her?" I ask Connor as our baby sleeps against my chest.

"I do not know." Connor replies. I look up at him, and I immediately know what he's thinking.

"Connor, look at me." I say gently. He looks. "You are a good, kind man. You will be a good father to our child. I know it."

He gives me a small smile, and we exchange a kiss.

"What was your mother's name?" I ask Connor.

"Kaniehtí:io." Connor replies.

"Teach me how to say it." I say.

Connor smiles and takes me through his mother's name. When my pronunciation is tolerable, I say it over and over until it's rooted in my mind.

"We could call her Kaniehtí:io." I say.

Connor looks at me, his eyes shining. He nods, and holds his arms out for our child. I place her, Kaniehtí:io, in her father's arms. He cradles her gently, planting an exceedingly gentle kiss on her forehead. It's an odd image, a tall, strong man like Connor holding a newborn child. She gurgles in her sleep.

Connor begins to talk, very quietly, to his daughter in his native language. I close my eyes and lean my head back against my pillow, suddenly extremely tired. The terrible few minutes of thinking my child was dead, then the joy as I learned she was alive, it distracted me. But now I realize I just had a child. And I have every right to be tired.

And I fall asleep, happier than I have ever been in my entire life.

**Hello lovely popsicles!  
Thank you all for your support over Rain and the One-Shots. If you guys want me to write more of these, let me know, but I don't have any more ideas. If you want, please leave more suggestions for One-Shots. Thank you so, so much for your support and I love you all! It's hard to express what you readers mean to me in an author's note, so I'll just settle for capital letters.  
I LOVE YOU!**


	6. Chapter 6

"Ratohnhnaké:ton, it's only for a few days!" I exclaim, exhasperated.

"But what if she falls over? Hurts herself? Anything could happen!" Connor exclaims.

"Ratohnhnaké:ton, you can run through a battlefield and not get a scratch. I'm sure you can handle two days with a five-year-old." I point out.

Connor begins to object, but I cut him off. "Look, if you're really in trouble, get Dr White. But I honestly wouldn't be going to visit James if I wasn't confident I'd come back to you two. Alright?" I ask.

"...Alright." Connor says. He still looks worried, but he'll be fine.

"Okay. I'll be back in two days. I love you." I say to Connor.

"Konnorónhkwa." He replies, kissing me on the lips.

"Ziio!" I call. She comes running around the corner.

"Do you have to go, Mama?" She complains.

"Yes, I do. But I'll miss you, and I'll be thinking of you." I pick Ziio up, then whisper into her ear. "Take care of Daddy. I'm trusting you to keep him in line while I'm gone."

Ziio nods with a huge grin, and I pass her to Connor. I step out of the house and walk over to my horse. A knot begins to form in my throat as I leave my husband and child behind, but I push it aside. It's only for two days.

I mount my horse, and with a final wave I gallop off, into the forest.

~!~

"Can we play a game, Papa?" I ask him eagerly.

"What would you like to play?" Papa asks, crouching down to my height.

"We could play dolls!" I exclaim.

Papa smiles. "What about this? If you promise to be good until Mama gets back from New York, I will take you hunting."

I gasp. I've never been hunting before. "Really?" I gasp.

"Really." Papa smiles.

I squeal excitedly, and jump up and down several times before calming down. Papa never jumps up and down, especially not when he's going hunting. I put on a very serious face, and Papa lifts me into his arms.

"You are not strong enough to handle a bow, yet. But I will teach you how to set traps, so that you can hunt rabbits. When you are old enough, I will make you your very own bow." Papa tells me. I grin delightedly, and Papa takes me up to his and Mama's bedroom, fetching his hunting gear. His bow and arrows, traps and other things dangle at his belt, and he gives me some traps and bait. We walk out of the house and I can barely contain my excitement. I jump up and down again. Just before we enter the forest, Papa stops me and crouches down again.

"Now, Ziio, when we enter the forest you must be very quiet and very serious. If you make any noise at all, you will frighten the animals. You must do exactly as I say, when I say it. If you see any animal, tell me very quietly. Especially bears, wolves or moose. Alright?"

"Okay, Papa." I reply. We head into the forest very quietly, our feet silent on the forest floor. Papa shows me how to detect where animals have been by their footprints, or by looking at bushes to see if rabbits have eaten recently. One bush has very recent marks on it, so Papa shows me how to set a trap. I do it easily.

We continue through the forest for the whole morning. Papa kills a fox, and seeing him shoot the bow and hit his target makes me almost burst with the thrill of it. We circle back as the sun reaches it's highest, and we check my trap.

There is a dead rabbit there. I see it and let out a delighted laugh, picking up the body and poking it.

"Ziio, you cannot do that." Papa says sternly.

"Why not?" I ask, pouting.

"Because this animal has died so that you can eat. You have killed it, and you must respect it, you must thank it for its sacrifice." Papa replies calmly but sternly. I nod, hanging onto his every word. I hold the rabbit gently, and we make our way back to the homestead. When we arrive, Papa shows me how to skin an animal and de-bone it. I decide to keep the bones. I might be able to make a pretty necklace, like Papa's.

That night, we eat my rabbit and Papa's fox for dinner. They taste good. Then, Papa teaches me a few words in his native language. He teaches me how important the land is, how we must respect it. Then we play a game of hide-and-go-seek, and I win every time. Once I'm bored with the game, we stop.

"Papa, what did you do before you were a papa?" I ask him.

"I... I helped the Americans win their war." He replies hesitantly.

"Did you kill people?" I ask curiously.

"I think it is time for you to go to bed." Papa says quickly.

"But you haven't answered my question!" I exclaim.

Papa sighs. "...Yes, I killed people. But that is never, ever a good thing. Ever. Do you understand?" Papa asks.

"I understand. Will you tell me a bedtime story?" I ask.

Papa nods, and I run upstairs, readying myself for bed and the story. I call for Papa when I'm ready, and he comes upstairs. He sits in a chair next to my bed and tucks me in.

"What story would you like to hear?" He asks.

"Hmm..." I mutter, thinking of something I'd like to hear. "I'd like to hear a story about your village!" I say.

Papa nods, and sits back against the chair. He sighs, and then starts his story.

~!~

Connor finished his story and looked over at his daughter. She was fast asleep, so Connor stood up and brushed the hair out of her face. He placed a kiss on her forehead, thinking of how much she looked like her mother. He walked out of her room silently and quietly shut the door behind him. He walked downstairs, proud of his daughter for trapping the rabbit earlier that day. He pottered around the house for a while, wondering how Clara was before heading upstairs to bed. He readied himself, dressing in a pair of pants, preferring to sleep shirtless; it was much more comfortable.

He laid down onto the bed and disliked the empty half of the bed, wishing Clara was there. He pushed the thoughts aside; his wife would be back the day after. He could survive another day without her, even if he did miss her dearly. He hoped she was at least enjoying the time with her brother.

Connor thought about Ziio. He wanted a son, and many more children as well. Maybe even a dog. He did not look it, but Connor rather liked children.

He thought about his work as an Assassin. He knew his work was far from finished; once Ziio was old enough, Connor and Clara would begin to recruit more Assassins into the Brotherhood; into the fight. He hoped Ziio would become an Assassin, but if she chose a different path, Connor and her mother would support her. After all, they only wanted her to live a happy, long life.

Connor rolled over in bed, closed his eyes. As he fell asleep, his thoughts drifted to his wife and daughter.

How lucky he was to have them.

**I'm back! Yay!  
****Anyway, school has been piling on homework, so that's why this chapter is late. I've decided to keep going with these one-shots, and just follow the story of Connor and Clara's life with kids and stuff. I may even write a whole new story about when Ziio is grown up or something. Maybe. Let me know if you want it, and suggestions for one-shots are always appreciated. A big thanks to HuntersEve, who suggested Connor babysitting and I thought that would be cute. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!**


	7. Chapter 7

I run along the hallways of my house, my wet feet slipping on the hard, wooden floor.

"Ziio! It's time for bed!" Mama calls.

I let out a loud giggle and keep running. Then something large and hard steps out in front of me and lifts me up, spinning me in a circle before tucking me under his arm.

"Papa! Let me go!" I squeal happily.

"It's bedtime. You must sleep now, little one." Papa says calmly.

"But I'm not _tired_!" I say, putting lots of emphasis on the word tired so that he knows exactly how 'not tired' I am.

"What if Mama and I tell you a story? Will you go to bed then?" Papa asks enticingly.

I draw in my breath excitedly. I love stories.

"Yes, yes, yes! I want to go to bed now, Papa!" I exclaim.

He laughs and walks up the stairs, still holding me tucked under one of his arms like I weigh nothing. We enter my room, where Mama sits in one of the chairs next to my bed.

"Thank you, Ratohnhnaké:ton." Mama says to Papa.

Papa places me in my bed, then pulls up another chair and sits next to Mama. "We have to tell her a story." He says quietly to her.

He leans over and whispers into her ear, and I occupy myself with studying Mama's big bump on her stomach. Mama said a baby is inside there, and when I asked where it came from she said that she and Papa had laid in bed one night. Then they held hands and wished very, very hard for another baby. Then when Mama had woken up in the morning there was a baby. I asked if its a boy or a girl, but she doesn't know.

Papa and Mama finish whispering, and Mama turns to me.

"Ziio, do you want to hear the story?" Mama asks.

"Yes!" I exclaim.

"Okay." Mama says, folding her hands over her baby bump. "Once upon a time, there was a man called Achilles. He was an old man, living in a big house. Then one day, a young boy knocked on his door and asked to be trained to be an Assassin. Achilles said no, because it was dangerous, and closed the door." Mama says. I sit there, already enthralled in the story.

"So the boy knocked again." Papa says, continuing the story. "And the man said no again. So the boy knocked again. And once again, the man said no. The boy knocked a thousand times. And the old man said no a thousand times. So the boy decided to sleep in the old man's stables, which weren't far from the house. That night, robbers came to the man's house and tried to steal from Achilles. The boy overheard them talking and came to stop them. He politely asked them to leave, and they said sorry. They didn't know Achilles was still living there.

"Achilles saw the boy talking to the robbers, asking them to leave. When the robbers left, he called to the boy and asked him to come inside. He asked the boy what his name was, and the boy replied 'My name is Sam.'. So Achilles trained Sam to be an Assassin, to protect the people from bad men and women."

"Then, one day, when Sam was seventeen," Mama says. "He was riding along a road in the forest when he heard a gunshot. He rode over to the source of the noise, where a woman was being held captive by... Wood pixies. So Sam rescued her, because she was the most beautiful girl she had ever seen."

Papa rolls his eyes and smiles.

"So Sam took her to a barn out in the forest. The girl thought he was going to kidnap her, so she distracted him with a big, long kiss." Mama says.

Papa sniggers, and Mama elbows his ribs before continuing on with the story like nothing happened.

"Then, when Sam was distracted, the girl knocked him out and hid. Then, when he was awake, the girl asked him why he had taken her away from the pixies. Sam replied that he thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. So the girl smiled and helped Sam stand up, and told him that her name was Claire. So Sam and Claire became the best of friends, and Claire went with Sam on all his journeys to fight evil. Then one day, as the sun was setting, Sam and Claire kissed. They fell in love, and then Sam asked Claire to marry him. They were married the very next day."

"The end." Papa finishes.

"Wait! Did they fight evil? Did they become Assassins?" I ask eagerly. "Did Claire get a baby bump like Mama?"

"They fought evil until there was no more evil left. They were Assassins for the rest of her life. And Claire got a baby bump, and had many more after that one." Mama replies.

"Like you!" I point out.

"Yes, like me." Mama concedes.

"Goodnight, Ziio. Sweet dreams." Papa says.

"Goodnight, Papa." I say tiredly, my head swimming with thoughts of Assassins and fighting mean people.

"Goodnight, little one." Mama says, kissing my forehead.

"Can I say goodnight to the baby?" I ask.

Mama walks closer to the bed, and I reach out to her bump. I put both my hands on her belly, then squeeze my eyes shut. When I open them the world is grey. Mama and Papa are glowing blue, as does the baby in her bump. I see my baby brothers sleeping there. I screw my eyes shut again, and when I open them the world is normal again. I plant a big kiss in the middle of Mama's belly.

"Goodnight, baby brothers." I say happily.

Mama laughs. She and Papa exit the room, and I fall asleep quickly, dreaming of Assassins.

**~!~**

Connor and I walk out of Ziio's room.

"The most beautiful girl he had ever seen?" Connor quotes.

"What? It's true." I say with a grin.

"Yes, it is." Connor replies sweetly, pulling me into his arms and kissing my head once. "But that was not the best kiss." He says.

I act offended. "How could you say that?" I ask incredulously.

Connor lifts my jaw so that we look directly at each other. He bends his head down and kisses me tenderly, and my lips spread into a grin.

"That was the best kiss." Connor replies softly.

I wrap my arms as far as they'll go around Connor's waist. He wraps his arms around me, and we stand there for a while. After a time, we part.

"When will we tell Ziio the truth?" I ask.

"When she is old enough. But it will be up to her, to choose her own future." Connor says.

"Of course." I reply.

I fold my hands over my belly, which grows ever single day. Now that I know what to expect, I'm apprehensive about the birth. What if the child is like Ziio? What if it is born dead? Connor sees my expression and immediately knows my thoughts.

"Do not worry. The child will be healthy, strong and happy." Connor says soothingly.

"And how can you know that?" I ask, slightly upset.

Connor places his hands on my cheeks gently, his calloused hands soft on my skin.

"Because tonight, in bed, we will hold hands. And we will wish very, very hard." Connor says gently.

My eyes soften, and Connor and I lean into each other. He moves one hand to my belly as we kiss.

"I love you." I say, deliriously happy.

**Hello there!  
****I'm so sorry I'm not updating as much lately, but school has been piling on the homework and assignments and stuff and I just didn't have time to write, even though it killed me. So, yeah. Sorry. :P  
****Anyway, the end of term is in like 3 or 4 weeks so until then I'll be updating less. From Jenna**


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